When I adopted my kitten Scrabble back in November, the shelter had him listed simply as Domestic Medium Hair, colour Buff. Name Brennan. He doesn’t answer to Scrabble, I wonder sometimes if I should try calling him by his shelter name to see if he reacts. In a strange way I’m almost afraid that he will, that he will slyly look my way smug in the knowledge that it took me this long to figure out the riddle.
How he came to live with me is a lovely story, perhaps one that my daughter will tell you someday. He was meant for me, of this I am sure (but I fear I’m starting to sound like a batty old cat lady).
I’d given a bit of thought as to which breed he might be, but as time went on more and more visitors were commenting on his unusual features. A face and tail like a fox, beautiful colouring and the softest hair. He looks quite different than any other cat I’ve had, with an unusual temperament to boot.
This afternoon a friend was visiting (donning Nutella treats and lovely reminders that spring is around the corner, my bedroom has been transformed into a delightful garden!), she was captivated by Scrabble’s tail – conversation later ensued online about what sort of cat might sport these unusual features.
After a bit of research, we had it nailed. The physical description was dead on, but it was the personality traits of the breed that had me grinning. A perfect match for his antics, and sweetness.
Scrabble may be quite adorable, but also quite a handful at times. An insatiable curiosity, and rather impertinent at times. Not unusual for a kitten of any breed, however he manages to take his misadventure to a new level. He mocks the spray bottle that was meant as a training tool to keep him off the kitchen counters, to stop him from chewing on my oxygen hose, to keep him from climbing the curtain that’s used as a makeshift wall to offer a bit of privacy within our apartment. When the bottle is brought out, he squints his eyes to keep the water out but holds firm to his mission of destruction.
He seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to cuddling with me when I’m in more pain than usual. As I write, he’s sitting on my shoulder with one paw to my cheek – the spot in which he can usually be found when it’s just the two of us in the apartment. Other times he wraps his paws around my wrist, as if he understands how badly I could use a hug. And he licks. Constantly. Any uncovered skin is subjected to his unusually rough tongue (most often my chin). It’s impossible for him to receive gentle nuzzling and cuddling unless he can reciprocate.
This wasn’t meant to be a drawn out account of life with Scrabble. What struck me today was how his behaviour, seemingly unusual to me and my friends, is actually quite common for the breed. Unrelenting curiosity (key word is unrelenting, I’ve never seen a cat persevere so!), defiance towards attempts to curb unwanted behaviour, strong bonding with “their human” including frequent licking, deftness with their paws (which leads to no end of trouble around here!) and a fondness for playing with water.
Desirable and less desirable traits, I love having him around. He can be a royal pain in the neck, yet a moment later be of great comfort to me.
Reading that his quirks are quite common to his breed put puzzle pieces together for me (if you’re a cat fancier, he’s a Somali. How such an expensive cat could have ended up in a shelter is a story only he could tell).
This sense of satisfaction when connecting to answers has been important to me, especially over the last years. There have been some situations that had perplexed me until I was able to learn that they weren’t as uncommon as I had imagined. Some still perplex me, but with a bit of insight now seem less shocking. Having pieces fall into place is something that perhaps not surprisingly offers me a great deal of comfort when dealing with a with a very rare illness that leaves so much answered.
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Loved this post Sandy.
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